Up in Flames
by The Mighty Red
Summary: When employed to SHIELD, Melanie Fraser becomes infatuated with the mysterious agent known as the Black Widow. Melanie tries all effort to pursue the lovely agent, but her feelings may not be received as well as she hoped. Hopefully Melanie can keep her anger in check, lest the entire affair were to go up in flames. /M for later chapters and language/
1. 1 - Smoking

**1. Smoking**

"Melanie Fraser," the secretary called in a bored tone.

The tall woman seated near the desk shot her hand up with an excited smile. "That's me!" She called. Melanie bounced up, her blonde ringlets bouncing with her, and handed the secretary- Justin Reedy, as the name plate on the desk said- her file. He looked taken aback by her jovial attitude. Justin Reedy was clearly not a morning person.

He looked through her file briefly and then handed it back. "Director Fury's office is at the end of the hall on your left, you can't miss it." The file was swiped out of his hands and Melanie took off like a rocket down the hall. Justin rolled his eyes and opened his mountain biking magazine to a page on a new lighter bike frame.

Melanie was scurrying down the hall, her long curly hair in tow, when she suddenly smashed into someone. She fell painfully onto her tailbone and the papers in her file went all over the floor. "I'm so very sorry!" She said in a squeak of a voice, as she shoved her glasses up on her nose and began to gather her papers to put them in the right order. "I was just in such a hurry to-" She stopped as her eyes met a pair of long legs. Melanie felt the breath go out of her as she looked up to see the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on. Shiny red hair, intense eyes, flawless skin, and delightful curves, all in a black pencil skirt.

Mother of god, Melanie was in lesbian heaven.

"I... I'm..." She stuttered, looking for words, "I'm sorry, ma'am... Or, agent? Are you an agent? You're probably an agent, I'm sorry ma'am- agent! I'm sorry, I just..."

"Slow down," the woman said in a voice as smooth as honey. She smiled warmly. Melanie hoped this woman couldn't read minds. "You're clearly applying for a position here, so you wouldn't know to begin with." The beautiful woman stooped down and helped Melanie pick up her papers. "I'm just an agent in training. Nothing special yet. My name is Natalie, good to meet you, miss...?"

"Uh, Melanie! Melanie Fraser!" She said quickly, hopefully not too quickly. "I was on my way to an, um... well, I mean, to an interview, with uh-"

"With Director Fury?"

"Yes! That's the guy!" Oh god, she was making an absolute fool of herself. She gathered up the rest of her file quickly. "Well, he's probably expecting me, so I'm just going to uh, get going, so I can... um... It was very nice to meet you, so..." Without another word, Melanie spun around and hurried down the hall, her heels clicking rapidly as she ran to Director Fury's office.

Natalie- the alias of Natasha Romanov (and fully certificated agent), meanwhile, looked after her with a perplexed expression on her face. "Tasha!" She looked up to see Clint jogging towards her. He stopped when he saw her face and her stance. "What are you doing on the ground like that?"

"Helping someone pick things up. She just ran off," Natasha said, getting out of her crouched position. "Odd woman..." She shook her head and smiled at her fellow assassin. "You wanted to spar this morning, right?"

Melanie knocked feverishly on the director's door, and without waiting for a response hurried in, slamming the door behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief and let her head fall back against the door as she steadied herself.

"Miss Fraser, I take it?"

Melanie's head snapped back upright and she looked into the eyes- or rather, eye, of a large, bald black man sitting behind the desk. His other eye was covered by an eye patch and that didn't help the situation; the man was already terrifying. Dressed in what appeared to be a leather trench coat with the SHEILD eagle insignia on the shoulder, this had to be none other than Director Fury.

He looked at his watch and then back to her. "You have impeccable timing, Miss Fraser; 8:45 on the dot. Punctuality is a good trait to have here at SHEILD. Please have a seat," he motioned the chair in front of the desk.

"Thank you sir," she said and seated herself, patting her hair to be sure it wasn't out of place. "I brought my transcripts from high school and college as well as my resume and a list of-" Melanie was cut short as a mid-height man with spiky dark hair strode through the door, rambling as he walked.

"...have to get something done about the algorithm calculators in the lab, Cyclops." The man seems to radiate aggressive self-confidence and in an instant, Melanie recognized him.

"Tony!" She gasped. "Tony Stark!"

He turned to look at her. "Hello sweetheart," he said, backtracking to stand next to her and lean down to have his face within inches of hers. "Have we met before? I'm sure I'd remember a dazzling beauty such as yourself." Tony flashed her a gleaming smile. "What was it? Last year's St. Jude's charity gala?"

"N-No, Tony, don't you remember? We were in the same particle physics and applied chemistry classes at MIT. You, you tutored me in both classes," she shifted in her seat and smiled, "and if you remember from the Snapple machine incident our sophomore year, I'm also not in to guys?"

Recognition flashed across his face. "Mels! Mels Fraser!" He said with a smile. "That's right! Goddammit, how did I not see it? Haven't seen you in years! You look great, by the way, Mels." He turned to Fury. "If you're interviewing her, hire her. She can work with me."

Fury raised a single eyebrow. "Making my decisions for me now, are you Stark?" He asked in a cold voice. Melanie felt her blood curdle at that voice.

"Oh for crying out loud, Fury, the woman is a genius, I practically taught her myself," Tony turned back to Melanie. "You're hired, and you're in my division now."

"Now just you hold on a minute," Fury rose to his feet, and Melanie's face drained of all color. Director Fury was massive. As if he wasn't imposing enough. "She needs to go through all the screening processes and the background checks first before she can even think about going within ten feet of your lab, let alone working there, Stark," he pointed an accusing finger at the smaller man. "And you damn well know it too."

Tony rolled his eyes and made a mocking mouth with his hand. "Rules, rules, regulations, rules... C'mon, Fury. Can't you just do that later? Mels is amazing at what she does, we worked on our advanced robotic engineering final project together." Tony turned to look at Melanie. "I still have that old thing, by the way."

"You still have Dum-E?" She giggled. "That thing barely managed to function in the demonstration to Professor Kaiser, let alone during the how ever many tests we ran on it."

"That may be, but considering that everyone else's robots were kinda half assed and there was a giant curve in his class anyway, we still passed top of the class," Tony retorted.

"You done walking down memory lane?!" Fury thundered. Tony and Melanie both went quiet at the voice of the director. "I make the rules here, Stark! And until she's gone through the proper protocol, she isn't allowed in your SHIELD lab!"

There was a lapse of quiet and then Melanie spoke up, "So does that mean I have the job?"

Fury sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, something he seemed to be quite practiced in. "As of now, yes. You have the job. Mr. Stark here seems to be very adamant about you working for him. If you were really in the same courses in school, then that must mean you're just as bright as he is, if not more so."

"I'm standing right here!" Tony protested.

Director Fury continued, "However, your file still needs review. And mark my words, if your reports come back with a single scratch, you're out of here with a memory wipe faster than you can say 'SHIELD.'" He muttered.

* * *

><p>Melanie sat at the kitchen table in her apartment that evening, sketching. The lines curved over the paper in a nearly perfect drawing of Natalie, the woman Melanie had run into in the hallway at SHIELD. When the drawing was complete, Melanie tore it out of her sketchbook and looked at it at arm's length. She had always been good at drawing, but she was surprised at the details that she had incorporated. There was the faint glimpse of laugh lines around Natalie's eyes, along with the subtle way that her smile curved upwards, like that of the Mona Lisa. That sort of smile was illegal in several countries, Melanie was sure of it.<p>

Satisfied with her work, she put down the paper and got up to find some dinner. Melanie opened the cabinet, pulled out a can of soup and a pot, and set them on the counter. Then she turned to the stove. After a few clicks, it was obvious the stove wasn't going to light on its own. "Piece of shit stove," she muttered.

She knew there wasn't a lighter in her apartment. She knew there wasn't a single matchbook. Melanie looked around, thinking there might be prying eyes in the apartment. For good measure, she drew the curtains over the window above the sink and triple locked the door. Then she went back to the stove and stood there for several seconds.

She extended her index finger, and a small blue flame appeared.

"_How many times do I have to tell you?!" Mother screeched, slapping Melanie across the face. The fires that had been sputtering harmlessly on Melanie's fingertips extinguished instantly. "Fire is EVIL! Fire will only hurt!" Mother pulled Melanie's hair back so that she would look at her. "The fire that consumes your soul is a mark of the devil! Fire is evil, you stupid girl! Never use it! NEVER!"_

Melanie waved her hand through the air, putting out the flame. She held her hand close to her chest and looked around the tiny apartment, as if she expected her mother to burst through the door. But for nearly three years, her mother had been six feet underground in a cemetery in upstate New York.

That didn't stop the waves of emotion that cascaded over her. She clutched at her own hair, to keep it away from the ghostly claws of her mother's hands that seemed to reach her, even now. Melanie's breath hitched and she dropped to her knees, clutching her chest and trying to get her breath back. But the air only came in short, ragged bursts. Frantic, Melanie looked for something to calm herself. Something. Anything. She crawled across the floor and reached up to grab the sketch of Natalie the agent-in-training.

Melanie then lay on her kitchen floor, holding the sketch of the mysterious woman to her chest, and tried to recapture her breath. It wasn't until she heard the sound of her phone ringing and felt the stiffness in her back that she realized that she had fallen asleep on the floor. As quickly as she could without injuring herself, she got up and reached for her phone on the table.

"H-Hello?" She answered, her voice still sounding groggy.

"Mels! Hey!"

"Who's this?" She stifled a yawn as she sat down at the table.

"Tony, of course! What are you doing right now?" He asked in an excited voice that didn't belong in someone over the age of seven.

Melanie looked at the clock on her phone. "Tony, it's one in the morning."

"That doesn't answer my question," he retorted.

She sighed. "I was sleeping on my kitchen floor."

"I'm not going to ask why, presumably because it probably involved massive amounts of booze and I will be very offended because you didn't ask your old college buddy to come have drinks with you," he feigned a few sniffles before continuing. "So instead, I'm going to invite you to my tower where we can drink coffee to sober you up and then drink more liquor and build machines."

Melanie rolled her eyes and massaged her temple. "Tony, we were never really buddies in college. We shared a few classes, you tutored me, and we worked on a final project together. Hardly what I would call a friendship."

"But what about the Snapple machine incident?" He asked, a faint clang ringing in the background of the call. "Dum-E goddammit! Don't make me dismantle you!"

Melanie snorted. "Okay, yeah, I might call us friends after that."

"Alright, see? We're getting somewhere now."

"Actually, I have two questions." She said, holding up her fingers in succession, even though Tony couldn't see her. "How did you get my number, and didn't Fury say that I wasn't allowed to work with you in your lab?"

"That, my dear Mels, is where you are wrong. Fury said you weren't allowed to work in my lab at SHEILD. This is my lab at the Tower," he said. "I can just make some excuse like I was having you over for drinks. Which, if you remember the original plan, is not totally a lie."

She rubbed her eyes. "Okay, fair point, but that doesn't answer my first question."

"Getting your phone number was as easy as getting Jarvis to go through some SHEILD files," he retorted, sounding quite proud of himself. "And before you ask even more questions, Jarvis is my AI."

Melanie sat with her face in her hand for a minute, dozing ever so slightly. "So what you're saying is, is that if I come over there with a bottle of whiskey and a wrench, I can tinker with your high tech machines for a few hours?"

"Where you not a lesbian, I would even ask you on a date," he promised.

She snorted. "Alright, Tony. Deal. I'll be over in an hour. I need to put on more comfortable clothing and buy some whiskey."

From the other end of the phone, she heard the man whoop. "Awesome! Tell the guards the big man up top is holding a phone call for you from the man downstairs." Before she even got a chance to question the meaning of that phrase, the line went dead.

* * *

><p>As promised, an hour later, Melanie drove up the front of Stark Tower. (Or was it Avengers Tower now? She didn't really know.) A large man with a pistol on his hip walked out of the tower lobby and up to her little Chevy Aveo. "Ma'am, you can't loiter out here," He said in a bored, but gruff tone.<p>

"I was told to tell you that the big man up top is holding a phone call for me from the man downstairs?" She repeated Tony's odd phrase and hoped that the billionaire wasn't just playing her for a fool. The guard sighed. "Those where Tony's words, not mine," she attempted to clarify, so as not to sound like a total idiot. "I'm sorry if-"

"It's alright, ma'am, this is not the oddest 'secret password' I've heard from him."

Within a few minutes she was parked in the basement garage. From the front seat of her car she grabbed her little Craftsman tool chest and a bottle of whiskey; at the direction of the guard from the front of the tower, she headed to the elevator in the main lobby entrance. Melanie had never seen such a grand place. It was immaculately clean and glowing. Even the plush carpet seemed to shine. The guard got in the elevator with her, scanned his access key, and pushed the unlabeled button that lit up. Then they were soaring up the tower, reaching the destination in little under fifteen seconds.

The doors of the elevator opened, and she walked into what looked to be Tony's own penthouse apartment. It took all of Melanie's self-control not to gasp at the grandeur of the place. There were wide black couches that were sunk into the next level of the floor that looked more than just a little bit comfortable. A large art sculpture that let a wall of water flow over a slab of stone was bubbling on the far side of the room, and the large wet bar was stocked with more types of liquor than she could think of or even begin to count. Floor to ceiling glass lined the far wall, creating a beautiful scenic view of New York City that wrapped around half the apartment. It was truly magnificent.

"Wait here until Mr. Stark is ready to come up from his workshop," The guard said in his bored tone. Melanie didn't have a chance to thank him, as the doors to the elevator slid shut and went back to the first floor. She turned back to the penthouse.

"Does all this really belong to one person?" She thought aloud. She had never known what it was like to live in excess like this. Sure, her family had taken trips to amusement parks and gone to the beach every now and again, and she thought she remembered going to Disney World once, but this kind of luxury was something she had never even dreamed of existing outside the worlds of the comic books she had read as a child.

She put down her tool box and the bottle on the wet bar's granite counter and walked to one of the windows that overlooked the city. Melanie put her hands against the glass as she stared out of the window. In all truth, she had never felt more stunned by the view New York City then she did now. She truly felt powerful.

It was only when she smelled it that Melanie realized that her fingers were smoking. With a gasp, she shook off her hands and ran to the sink behind the wet bar. The faucet let loose a stream of frigid water. Melanie let her hands soak under the water until she couldn't feel the tips of her fingers anymore. She hated this, this curse. Her mother had told her that she was evil for having this power, and she was right. All fire could do was destroy. She felt like a monster. In a sudden wave of panic, Melanie whirled back around to the window. There were singe marks on the glass. Someone would see those. They would figure it out and they would lock her away to perform experiments on her. Just like Mother always said. Melanie grabbed a wad of paper towels and got them wet under the water. She dashed back to the window and began to furiously scrub the window.

"I would've hired you as my cleaning lady if you had asked, Mels."

Melanie whipped around and saw Tony, holding an empty glass, standing a few feet away with a smirk on his face as usual. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt, a blue-white light pulsing slightly underneath. A grease towel hung from his pocket, covered in an abundance of stains.

"I... Uh... I'm really sorry I just... It was..." She fumbled for words, trying to sound intelligent and not guilty.

Tony's brows knit together. "Everything okay?" He tried to lean to look past where Melanie was standing. "Is something wrong with the win-?"

"Nodon'tlookit'snothingIpromise!" She blurted, covering the window as best she could to obscure the singe marks. "Just some fingerprints! I'm a little particular about clean windows, nothing to worry about!" She gave what she hoped was a convincing smile.

Tony simply shrugged. "Alright, whatever. I'll grab the bottle of whiskey after I pour myself a glass. Grab your tools and head down those stairs over there!" He smiled and jogged over to the wet bar, pulling out his own bottles and making himself a drink.

Melanie stepped away from the window cautiously and grabbed her tool box. "These stairs here?" She asked, pointing to a flight that went around the sculpture with the waterfall.

"That's the one!" Tony replied, still pulling glasses and bottles. "I'll meet you at the glass door!" Melanie nodded and headed down the stairs.

Tony glanced up to make sure she had left the room. Then he walked out from around the bar and towards the window. He brushed his fingers over the little black marks that were faded slightly after she had rubbed them. When he pulled his hand away, little bits of the black stuff stuck to his fingers. Curiously, he brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed. "Smells almost like... ash?" He said incredulously. "Jarvis...?"

"_Yes sir?"_

"Analyze the black stuff on the inside of the window here. When you have a report," he thought briefly on how to be conspicuous about the situation, "print it to the printer in the shop that prints things the quietest."

"_Of course, sir."_

Tony looked at the marks again. If he didn't know any better, he would almost say... He looked at his hand again, the back to the window. Then he pressed his palm to the widow, lining up his hand with the marks. Though most of it hand been scrubbed away and Mels' hands were not quite the size that Tony's were, there was no doubt about it.

It was a hand print.

* * *

><p><em>AN: For those of you that have been following me before now, welcome back! For those of you who are new, welcome. I've been known to disappear for many months at a time, but I have a plan for this story that should see it finished. While I know that many of you are impatient for a new update every day, I can't supply that. I am a college student who is taking 18 credits and writing fanfiction during the last few weeks of the semester is difficult. I'll do my best to please the crowds. I can say that I'll try for an update once a week. <em>

_Also, if you have read the old things already posted by me, I'm so so sorry. Some of those stories are quite terrible. _

_Anyway, cheers, and I hope to see you guys in a week. Happy reading! -M_


	2. 2 - Smoldering

**2. Smoldering**

"And as you can see here by the size of the star, it is classified as a red supergiant. Can anyone here name this star? Miss Fraser?" Professor Lee pointed to her.

"Uh, Betelgeuse, sir?" She guessed wildly.

Professor Lee, a wiry elderly man with thick glasses and a bushy white mustache, nodded with a smile. "Very good. Now if we look closer at the star, we can see..."

As part of her new SHIELD training, Melanie had to take some general classes at the SHIELD academy. But Melanie would much rather be tinkering in Tony's lab with his ridiculously high tech gear. Over the course of the past few weeks of being officially employed at SHIELD, Melanie and Tony had grown to be close friends. While they had known each other in college, this sort of friendship was the thing they both seemed to be looking for.

As Professor Lee kept talking about the temperatures of red stars, Melanie felt her phone buzz in her pocket. As stealthily as she could, she reached into her pocket and took out her phone. The message was from Tony. She unlocked the screen and read the text. It was an answer to her prayers.

"_Lab? :D"_

Melanie looked at her watch. She still had about ten minutes left in class.

"_In class."_

"_Booooooooooo."_

"_You're a child. There's like 10 mins left in Lee's class."_

"_Come on Fraser! The lab is calling to us!"_

"_10 mins!"_

"_Fiiiiiine."_

She put her phone down just in time to see a woman glaring at her from across the room. It was the woman from a few weeks back! Natalie, the agent in training. Though, she didn't look like she was attending the class. She looked like a fully-fledged agent who was sitting in. Melanie shifted her eyes back to her notebook and wrote the rest of Lee's lecture in the book. He concluded by talking about the vastness of the universe and how there are still discoveries waiting to be made; how everyone would find their place in the universe and there was a greater purpose. A shrill bell clanged, and everyone started to pack up. Melanie stood and stuffed her blue notebook into her backpack. She glanced at where Natalie had been sitting, but the woman had vanished.

God, she was hot.

Melanie smiled to herself and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Maybe she'd as her to get drinks together or something. As Melanie turned to leave, she ran into someone's chest. "Oh, goodness, I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching-"

"I know you weren't." A smooth voice replied.

Melanie looked right into the eyes of Natalie the-agent-in-training. Melanie swallowed and was at a loss for words. Natalie's eyes were an intense blue-grey, staring daggers into Melanie. "Do you know who Professor Lee is?" She asked. It must've been rhetorical, because Natalie continued, "He is the most honored member of SHIELD. The fact that you are being taught basic astronomy by him should be more than an honor for you."

"I, I'm sorry, please just back up a few inches, you're kind of frightening..." Melanie stuttered.

Natalie's eyes darkened and she stepped even closer. "If I frighten you now, then you have no idea how frightening I can really be. Pay attention in class."

"Oh my god, please don't hurt me, I was just telling Tony that I-"

"Tony?" Natalie's face dropped the terrifying look. "Tony who?"

"Stark...?"

"How are you communicating with him?"

"My... phone?" At Natalie's glare, Melanie put up her hands in surrender. "Sorry, I meant that we were friends in college! We got re-acquainted the other week and have been spending some time together. I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries, please don't fire me?" She had said this all very fast.

Natalie sighed and backed off. Melanie exhaled quickly. "So you're the one he's been talking about. You're Mels."

"Yes! That's me!" She said with a smile.

"And you were the one I ran into on the day of your interview. You fell and your papers flew everywhere." Natalie said, looking Melanie up and down for a few seconds, as if examining her. "I'm sorry to have lied to you," she said, extending her hand. "The name Natalie is an alias. My name is Natasha. But you'll probably know me as the Black Widow."

Melanie's mouth dropped open. "You're the Black Widow?" She squealed slightly. "Wow! What an honor! It's so nice to meet you! I'm Melanie Fraser!" She shook the other woman's hand violently.

Natasha smiled lightly. "Yes, I know."

Melanie put two and two together and blushed deeply. "Oh, yeah, right. Um, I'm sorry. I just got excited and I..." She cleared her throat and started walking out of the classroom. "I'm sorry I was texting. He wouldn't have left me alone if I didn't answer."

Natasha shook her head as she followed the blonde. "Believe me, I am more than a little acquainted with Tony and his child-like manners."

Melanie snickered. "You got that right. I was at the gym two days ago and left my phone in my locker and when I came back, I had thirteen messages from him alone." She smiled. It was so easy to talk to Natasha. When she wasn't being terrifying, Natasha was actually a very nice person to be around. "Do you, uh..." Melanie felt her tongue tie. "I mean, only if you want, because of course I'm sure you're busy, and I don't want to be a bother-"

"What is it Mels?"

"M-Mels?"

"Is it okay if I call you that?" Natasha asked, looking at her with an unreadable expression. "I know that's what Tony calls you, so..."

"Yes, no that's fine!"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Yes, no?" She asked with a smile.

Melanie thought about her phrase. "No, I meant that it's okay! I didn't mean... Fuck." She put her head in her hand.

Natasha took her hand and smiled. "It's okay. Just because I'm to Black Widow doesn't mean that you have to be nervous around me." _No, it's because you're so goddamn attractive! _Melanie thought. "Unless I was interrogating you." Natasha went on. "Then you should be very nervous." Melanie laughed slightly. "But we're just talking as friends. What did you want to ask?"

She floundered for words for a seconds. _We're friends?! Oh god... I hope she can't hear my heart beating..._ "Do... Do you want to um...? Do you want to get drinks or something?" That was much harder to ask than she thought.

Natasha looked at her watch. "Tonight?" She had a doubtful look on her face.

"Or, whenever you're free! I know you must be very busy!" Melanie said quickly, opening the door to go outside.

The agent smiled and stopped walking. "How about tomorrow night? I'm free then."

"Sure! Eight o'clock?"

"Absolutely."

"Great! It's a date!" Melanie felt the color drain from her face as she said it. "I mean, not like a date, date! Like two friends having a good time date!"

Natasha laughed. "I know what you mean, it's okay." You don't have to explain everything. Don't worry so much!" She looked at her watch again. "I have to go. Fury will have my hide if I'm late to this meeting. It was lovely talking to you, Mels. See you tomorrow?" She smiled and waved, walking back down the hall. Her red hair swayed behind her with every step.

Melanie raised her hand in goodbye. "Yeah... Tomorrow..." She smiled like an idiot. Her phone buzzed again.

"_Meeeeeelsssss... I'm booooored..."_

Tony again. She rolled her eyes and walked out to her car, sending a message that she would be there in a few minutes. The snow swirled around her and she shivered. But not because she was cold. She was never truly cold. Melanie shivered at the prospect of maybe finally someone who was understanding and accepting of her for who she really was.

* * *

><p>"And just where were you, young lady?" Tony said, hands on his hips. His expression of amusement betrayed his body language.<p>

Melanie snorted as she walked in. "I was talking to someone." She brushed the snow off her hat and took off her coat, throwing the items on the coatrack.

"_Welcome and thank you for utilizing the coat rack, Miss Fraser."_ Jarvis said politely. The bitterness was evident in the AI's voice. Melanie noted that not two feet from the coat rack was Tony's light jacket hanging over the back of a chair.

"Oh someone!" Tony said, waving his arms around and going back to his project. He seemed to be ignoring Jarvis's jape. "I see that I'm not good enough for you now. That's alright. I'll just go be sad over here... With nothing but my robots to keep me company!" He added dramatically, draping himself over the desk in a false faint.

Melanie shook her head and went over to the fridge to grab a carton of orange juice. "So the person I ran into turned out to be a friend of yours." She rolled her eyes as Tony sighed loudly. "Said her name was Natasha, the Black Widow?"

"Holy shit, you ran into Natasha Romanov and you still have all your limbs?" Tony laughed, still draped over the desk. "Fucking incredible."

"Yeah..." She said, taking a drink of juice. She hesitated before adding: "We're going out for drinks tomorrow."

Tony sat up at that. "Oh. My. God." He said, a huge smile on his face. "Ha! You actually have a crush on her, don't you?" At Melanie's blush, Tony laughed even harder. "Wow, Mels, you set your standards pretty high, don't you?" He ducked as she threw a wrench in his direction.

"Shut it, iron ass. I can't help it. She's really pretty! I happen to have a thing for pretty girls," she said with a huff.

"What are you going to scoop up all the pretty girls into your pretty girl sack and carry all of them off to your pretty girl tower? Like a dragon with a hoard of pretty girls?" Tony snarked.

She shot him a withering look. "Honestly? Can you honestly not be more supportive than that?"

"To be honest, no I can't." Tony became quite serious. "I'm going to drop this now so you know. She's dating someone."

Melanie felt a weight drop onto her. The breath left her lungs and she sat down. "Fuck, man. Go figure." She shoved the tears aside that threatened her vision. "God, can't I have anything nice?" Her chest felt hot and she exhaled heavily, letting the heat leave, but it only built back up again. The heat angered her, and she growled, feeling the heat migrate into her hands. Suddenly, she didn't care what was around her, and she slammed the ground with her hands. A ring of bright red fire leapt out of her hands and skittered across the floor around her, singing the floor.

"Holy fuck!" Tony jumped back from the flames and looked at Melanie in surprise.

Melanie gasped and looked up at Tony, horror-struck. They locked eyes for a moment before she started floundering for words. Not being able to say anything, she just looked back down and looked at the singed floor. The world became blurry and she felt tears roll down her face, sizzle on her hot skin, and turn to steam.

"Mels, how long have you been a mutant?"

Tony's voice jerked her back to the world. "A what?" She asked.

"A mutant. Your genes are mutated and you can..." he gestured at the floor, "you can make fire."

"You're not mad?" She asked, her voice quiet and afraid.

"No, no, never. I'm going to come closer? Is that okay?" She nodded and he stepped over the scorch marks and sat down next to her. The sat in silence for a little bit. "Tell me about this." Tony said. "When did it start, how do you keep it in check, what happens with your powers?"

Melanie sat quietly for a minute. "I've always been able to," she said. "Even since I was little. My mother said that when I was a few months old, I burnt the new drapes in the living room of our old house. When I was three I accidentally burnt that house down."

Tony stood quickly and walked across the room. "Keep going, I want to take notes on this!"

"Okay... Um, when I was five-" he returned with an iPad and a touch pen and began writing into a program, "-I burned a hole in my new church dress because I didn't want to wear it." She laughed a bit. "That's when Mother started hitting. Any time I even looked like I was getting mad or I looked like I was getting a fever, whap! A smack across the face or a hit to the back of my head. She yelled a lot too..." Melanie could feel her heart rate going hay-wire. "She... was a good mother... She kept me... in line..." Her breathing started to hitch and become short gasps.

"Mels, look at me, c'mon look here," Tony said, taking her hands. "She can't hurt you here. She can't come near you. Keep breathing. Don't stop breathing." Melanie took as many breaths as she could. You don't have to tell me anymore, Mels. It's okay. You're safe."

It took a few minutes, but Melanie eventually got her breathing back. "I've never been able to do much more than make small flames. What happened just there..." She shook her head. "I've never done anything like that before. I just got really angry and..." She broke off again, unsure of how to proceed.

"So you've got a temper," Tony said, a smile working its way across his lips. "I think I know someone who can help you with that."

* * *

><p>"The trick," Bruce Banner said as he took a deep breath, "is to not think about anything."<p>

"Nothing at all?" Melanie asked doubtfully.

The young doctor opened his eyes and gave her a look over his glasses. His dark hair was swept back, a few streaks of gray running through it. He had a kind face and dark eyes. They both sat cross legged on woven mats, the lights down so they could just see each other.

"Meditation is an ancient art, Melanie. It's difficult, but rewarding." He closed his eyes again.

"But what if-"

Bruce cut her off and said, "One of the candles has gone out. Would you mind relighting it?"

She blinked in surprise. "Uh, yeah... Sure." She stood and went over to the desk, where a tall white candle sat dormant. Melanie picked the lighter up off the desk and was about to light it before Bruce chuckled and said:

"Not with the lighter."

She looked at him incredulously. "But what if I get out of control?"

He opened his eyes and stood, looking at her with deep understanding. "Trust me, you'll be alright." Bruce extended a hand to her. "Do you want to hold my hand, just in case?"

She looked terrified at the very thought. "No! I'll burn you!"

"I don't think you will. Just trust me?" He smiled; it was a reassuring smile.

Melanie looked at the candle again. She took Bruce's hand and took a deep breath. She reached for the candle, her finger tips becoming hot. In mere seconds, the candle was lit and flickering softly, as if applauding. Melanie smiled broadly. "I... I did it!" She said happily, turning to Bruce.

He returned the smile and patted her on the shoulder. "See? Was that all that bad?"

"I can't believe I did it..." She looked at his hand skeptically. "And I didn't burn you?"

"Not once," he said, holding it up for her to inspect even further. And he was right. His hand was the same as it was before: smooth with neatly trimmed nails. There was even a small freckle on the back of his hand an inch or two below his pointer finger. "Fire isn't just a destructive power, Melanie. Look at that candle." She turned. "Fire is light and life. It lights up the dark and helps you find your way. While yes, it can be uncontrollable and scary, fire is the basic need of humans. Without fire, we might not be where we are today."

Melanie drank in the sight of the tiny flame, feeling it pulse within her. "It's almost like... like a heartbeat," she said softly.

"All of our hearts have fire in them," Bruce said sagely. "Some just more than others."

* * *

><p>Melanie sat on her bed that night thinking about what Bruce said. <em>Fire is life. <em>She thought as she looked at her hands. Focusing quietly, she made her hands catch. Warm fire crackled to life in her hands. She made her breathing calm and put her hands together. The fire that enshrouded her hands became a ball in her hands, pulsing and drinking in the oxygen around her hands. "It is alive!" She said, the glow warming her face. Slowly, she squeezed the fire in her hand and brought her hands outward, cutting the fire off and dispersing it. Nothing had burned, nothing was on fire or damaged.

Melanie was getting the hang of this.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Well here you guys go. About a week, as promised. I had a plan for where this story was going to go, but the muse has informed me that it will not be going in that direction. This should be a much more interesting track. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll see you next time. Cheers!<em>


	3. 3 - Flickering

**3. Flickering**

"Sir, I don't like this. She's not dangerous, she's not a menace. She's a human being with a heart and hopes and dreams and wants and needs."

"That doesn't mean she isn't going to be dangerous in the future," Fury said with a growl. "We don't know her intentions. Therefore, your orders are to keep an eye on her until we can determine said intentions." Fury's good eye glared at Natasha, almost as if it was by his will alone that was keeping her at attention like a wooden plank.

She frowned and shook her head. "That's the thing though, sir, I don't think she has any bad intentions, I think she's just..." Her eyes looked over at the screen replaying the video of Melanie slamming the floor. Fire flew everywhere. The floor was scorched, but her body language... there was so much fear in it. She wasn't used to this. "I think if we just send word to Charles that she is around, maybe he could send a few people over to play as SHIELD agents to keep an eye on her."

"And then what?" Fury demanded. "Do nothing but keep an eye on her? She needs her memory wiped and she needs to be sent out of here! This isn't some 'try again, you'll do better' ballet class, Romanov. This is SHIELD. In due time, she will not even know this part of her life existed. What does it matter to you?"

Natasha kept her mouth shut. There was no arguing this with Fury it seemed.

"Are you emotionally comprised by this?"

"No," she spat. "You know I'm committed."

"Then get your head out of the clouds and follow your orders," Fury returned her venom. "Keep an eye on Miss Fraser. If anything were to happen, report it to me. Do anything necessary to keep her in your trust."

She hesitated only slightly before nodding stiffly and saying, "Yes, Director Fury."

* * *

><p>The snow had swirled to a stop earlier that day, but it had left a few inches behind. Standing ankle deep in it, Melanie checked her watch. 7:58, the small numbers read. <em>Chill out, <em>she thought to herself._ She's not late, she's just not here yet. No worries. _But that didn't help. The constant question of 'what if she doesn't show up?' continued to pester her as the seconds continued to tick by on the watch. She did have the right place didn't she? Natasha had sent her a message containing the address of a small place downtown. It looked like a fun place. Hopefully they would be able to-

"Mels!"

And there she was. Melanie felt her breath leave her. Dressed in tight black jeans and a flattering red scoop top, Natasha looked radiant. She had on a light jacket with what looked like a college crest on it. A small necklace with an arrow on it was a simple, but very nice choice. A hint of eye shadow sparkled above her light eyes. Her black wedges clicked on the pavement where the snow had been shoveled as she walked. She offered a smile. "Glad you could make it!" Natasha said, as she gave Melanie a small hug.

"Thanks for coming," Melanie said, her heart beating faster in her chest. She felt very plain in her sparkling orange top and jeans. "Shall we?" She motioned to the door. They walked in, and were instantly assaulted by the wave of sound. The beat of the music was so loud that it vibrated through Melanie and left her feeling almost breathless. Her entire ribcage seemed to rattle as they dropped their coats in the front closet.

"Let's get a few drinks!" Natasha yelled next to Melanie's ear. She nodded and followed the other woman through the crowd to the bar. When they reached the bar, Natasha was already handing Melanie a drink. "Cheers!" The agent said and threw back a few sips.

Melanie raised her glass and took a drink. Liquid fire raced down her throat and burned her mouth. Damn, was it good though. They both had no trouble putting away several more. It wasn't until Melanie's whole world was spinning that she realized that she might be a bit buzzed.

But it didn't matter. Whatever she had, it must've been made of pure courage, because Melanie seized Natasha's arm and dragged her to the dance floor. A hundred or so other people were already there, jumping and dancing to the electric rhythm. Melanie started moving, her hands not leaving Natasha's hips. The agent was smiling, moving her body in a way that drove Melanie crazy. Melanie swirled around and started grinding against Natasha, feeling her, embracing her, touching and dancing.

Time meant nothing.

The world was flashing and whirling in an alcohol fueled frenzy. Natasha's red hair flew around her as she spun, a haze of own red fire. Meanie grabbed the agent and brought their two bodies together as the music thrummed through the building, making the world shake and stir. Lava seemed to erupt inside Melanie as Natasha's body was moving against her own, their sweat mingling and their skin finding only each other.

"Come on," Natasha yelled suddenly, pulling Melanie away from the throbbing dance floor and across the room to the exit. Melanie's steps were a little messy, but Natasha, the beautiful Natasha, was leading her. She had nothing to worry about. Suddenly, her coat was around her shoulders and they were flagging down a cab.

The cab's interior was messy and dingy, but it was only for a short time. After quickly saying her address, Melanie wasted no time in grabbing Natasha by the shoulder and biting her neck. The agent sighed under her. Melanie felt her blood pounding, but she couldn't tell whose it was. Her hands began to explore the other woman, slipping under her red shirt and feeling her toned body. Natasha didn't waste any time in doing her own feeling around. She led her hands to Melanie's waist, tenderly caressing every curve and feature.

Suddenly, Melanie was struggling with her keys, trying to put them in the lock to her door. How did they get there? Oh... No, it didn't matter, because there were Natasha's hands again. This time, feeling up her ribs and onto her-!

"Oh god..." Melanie moaned, her body temperature rising.

And then they were on the bed. Finally.

Clothing was pointless. They ripped all of it off until there was only skin on skin, woman on woman, goddess upon goddess. There were no words exchanged, no coherent ones, anyway. Melanie felt her body explode as Natasha's tongue found every nook and cranny of her, licking, feeling, touching, oh god! Melanie's hips bucked as Natasha's tongue found-

Melanie heard herself scream Natasha's name as ecstasy overtook her. Wasting no time, she flipped the other woman onto her back. She took her sweet time with the process, feeling Natasha's nerves clench and twist as her fingers explored the terrain of her body. "God, Mel, right there!" Natasha gasped. "God please..." she moaned.

Melanie obliged and took her tongue on a journey through Natasha's most private area, licking and sucking and biting until Natasha came with vigor, releasing a cascade of emotion.

Both women collapsed onto each other, breath ragged and exhausted. Melanie had just gotten comfortable when she felt her consciousness leave her, wrapped in the arms of her beautiful agent.

* * *

><p>Sunlight streamed through the window as Melanie woke the next morning. Her head was pounding and her stomach was reeling. God, why did she feel so-?<p>

Oh shit.

She sat up, remembering having wild sex with Natasha. She shivered at the memory. Natasha was very practiced. Melanie glanced around the room and saw her clothes leading to the bed like a paper trail. The spot next to her on the queen sized bed was vacant and there was a note on the pillow. Melanie reached for it and her glasses and read:

"_Mels,  
><em>_I left a toasted bagel on the table for you  
>as well as a pot of coffee brewing in the machine.<br>I hope you slept well, I had a very nice night.  
>See you on Monday.<br>__-Nat."_

Melanie rolled over and covered her eyes. She could smell the coffee, but her stomach lurched at the thought of food. But the coffee did sound like a good plan. Wrapping the blanket around herself, Melanie trudged out to the kitchen, ignoring the protest of her pounding head. Her phone was on the counter and while she poured herself a cup of coffee, she read over some of the texts. Bruce wanted to know if she wanted to have another meditation session, Tony was griping about her not answering her phone and how he wanted to construct a specialized welding machine (because the ones on the market just aren't powerful enough), and an unregistered number tried to call her. The area code was from the town she grew up in. No doubt it was one of her cousins or someone like that calling to check up on her.

When Melanie left for college, she didn't go back to New Paltz, the tiny tourist trap where she was born. The small town lifestyle bored her, and she needed to get away from the prying eyes of her family. Her mother had died a mysterious house fire, and they believed it to be a gas pipe leak that had caught. After all, there was no evidence of arson. But that didn't stop the suspicion that arouse around her when she left for school and didn't come back home. Her relatives had been ready to welcome her into their homes, but she refused each and every one.

The coffee had grown slightly cold, so Melanie forced her hand to become almost boiling hot. In no time, the coffee was steaming again.

What bothered her the most though was why someone would call now? There had been no contact for several months. Did something happen to one of her relatives? She was hesitant to even call them back. There wasn't a guarantee that this was a cousin or an aunt or uncle. Maybe it was worth the shot. She redialed the number and waited.

"'_Ello?"_

Her mood improved drastically. "Uncle Seamus? Is that you?"

"_Mellie? Hey there sweetie pie, how are you?"_

She smiled and sat down on the kitchen chair. "Just fine, I'm recovering from a bit of a hangover."

"_Hitting the old bottle, eh Mellie? Just like your Uncle Seamus, you are. Whiskey is your best friend."_

Melanie chuckled. "Uh huh. Crazy old man."

"_Eh?! I ain't old!"_

Uncle Seamus was almost eighty and as Irish as they come. He was always Melanie's favorite uncle. No matter what time of year, he always had a jar of peppermint sticks on the kitchen counter. He always smelled like peppermint and pipe tobacco. "So what's the story, old timer?" Melanie asked, taking a sip of coffee.

"_Ah... Yes. Well, I'm not gonna mince words with ya, Mellie. I'm not feelin' so hot anymore."_

Melanie's smile dropped away. She tried to remain composed. "O-Oh?"

"_Your Aunt Eliza wants t' put me in a home."_

The words lingered for a moment. "Does she?" Melanie had to remember to keep her anger in check. Eliza was the third child. Seamus, Norah (Melanie's mother), and Eliza were siblings. Eliza was never the friendliest person to be around. "Why does she think you need to go to a home? Aunt Kelley is there with you, you'll be-"

"_You haven't been around, Mellie. Kelley died. 'Bout a year ago. Heart troubles. We tried to call, but you were traveling in Europe at the time, and so... well."_

Melanie hung her head in shame.

"_We just never told you because we thought that you would come and visit."_

"Uncle Seamus, I'm sorry... I'm sorry I haven't been around. I've just... School was difficult to get away from, and you know how I feel about going back to New Paltz... There aren't many fond memories there..."

"_I know lass. My sister was never the lovin' type. Even when we were kids growin' up in Ireland." He sniffed loudly. "Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that your old timer is headed to a home."_

"It's no excuse as to why I haven't been there. I... I'll come visit, Uncle. Give me an address. I'll call off work and come up to see you," she waited as he thought.

"_That sounds like a fine idea, Mellie." _She could almost hear his smile. _"Remember were the Harp and Fiddle pub is on Main Street? The home they're taking me to is a block over on Second and Fifth. Ya can't miss it."_

She wrote down the directions. "Alright, Uncle. I'll be up to see you as soon as I can. I'll be up tomorrow evening. Sound good?"

"_I'll even save you a peppermint stick." _He said. Melanie felt tears welling in her eyes at that.

"Alright, Uncle Seamus, take it easy, I'll see you tomorrow."

"_Have a good day, love."_

* * *

><p>Seamus put the receiver back in the cradle. "There. She'll be here tomorrow. Are you happy?" The old Irishman glared at the two police officers in his living room. While most of the furniture had been clearing away and possessions had been put in boxes, the ragged chair that Seamus sat in still gave it a homey feel. The Irishman was balding, but a thick beard and moustache still grew on his chin. It was mostly grey, but some of his red hair still poked through here and there. His watery blue eyes stared down the officers.<p>

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. O'Conner. We'll confront her when she gets here," The tall officer said.

"Why do ya even need to? It was a gas leak... Mellie wouldn' hurt no one." Seamus said defiantly.

The short officer clutched a file closer to his side. "We've tried to ask her about her mother's death for quite some time. While she has cooperated, Miss Fraser has not been consistent with her stories. After reviewing all of the evidence and thoroughly investigating evidence and rereading your niece's statements, there is no other explanation."

"Your niece caused the fire that killed Norah Fraser," the tall officer concluded.

Seamus mumbled heatedly. "She's a sweet little girl who wouldn' hurt no one." He stayed firm by his statement.

"As you wish, Mr. O'Conner. But just know that she will be arrested on sight if she shows any sign of struggle," the tall officer tipped his hat. "Good afternoon, sir." And with that, they left.

Seamus sighed heavily and picked up his cup of black tea. He took a sip thoughtfully. "Ech..." He spat. "Cold as ice." He shook his hand out briefly, then held it under the mug. A small flame sprouted in his hand and he heated the liquid back up. "Much better."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Well, that took much longer than I would've liked. It's also a bit shorter than I would've liked, but whatever. I'll give you a longer one next update. That'll hopefully be about a week from now, maybe a little more. Thanksgiving is coming up and family time means I have no time for writing. Sorry. I'll get you want I can before school is back in session.<em>

_I apologize for the terrible sex scene. I was never good at writing those. _

_More back story next chapter. Yes, I know it's boring, but you have to get to through the exposition to get to the good parts. Work with me, people, I'm only one woman._

_By the way, I see the traffic this story gets. I'm very sad that more of you don't leave any reviews. Don't make me beg for them. ;) _

_Anyway. I'll see you guys next week. Cheers!_


	4. Author's Note

**AN: I think as a general rule, I should apologize. Real life has gotten pretty real as of late, and finals are swiftly approaching. This is the last you're going to hear from me until, at the earliest, December 13****th****. I'll be home for the holiday and be ready to write again. I apologize once again. Thank you for reading, and lots of love. See you in a week and a half. -M**


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